Looking at a car guard one day, about a year after I had come to accept that I had been led on, by a girl who had used my good eyesight to effectively turn me into her husband for all I thought I'd ever be able to look with interest on someone else, I found myself in a quandary indeed.
I was respected for my skills as a programmer and sysadmin, but I had no desires in the world.
We all need excitement in our lives, and I had a motorbike. It wasn't a very expensive one, but I had learnt the lesson of quality with my own experience added to the lessons taught me by a person who doesn't know how to shut up about quality. I certainly appreciate the instincts these gave me, for by the time I reached adulthood I hardly needed to do even cursory research when I saw something that caught my eye as something I wanted or needed just then.
Work obligations carried the only reward of food on the table. And petrol for the bike. Both of which, as I understand it, are within the means of a car guard. In fact, I met a car guard who told me about his experience in achieving the standard biker entry level certificate called Sani Pass, which he told me about because we had the same bikes.
If I am required to stress myself because of my intellect, to whom does the benefit of intellect belong?
If I am expected to hold to adages such as taking the good with the bad, is it not so that what's good for the goose is good for the gander?
The biggest difference between being a car guard and being a sysadmin and programmer, is what people call telephone etiquette. Before we talk about how etiquette might allow someone to tell someone else who is doing nothing wrong, that doing nothing right is wrong, the minor detail of thinking must be thought about.
I am a thinker.
If I ever marry someone, or somehow someone knows that I already have married them by inference, I would require my partner to ever be ready to tell me to slow down, or to let them have a say.
I have found motorcycling can help me think things through, but then multitasking might be a matter of life and death; which some people thought was a fun thing to do with the lives of pedestrians while they typed smses to each other while driving; which was the direct effect of the introduction of the operating system principle into commonplace language.
The direct effect of the screwball idea of telephone etiquette was that people who were hardly above the level of being peasants had to put down what they were doing in order to listen to someone who had decided to have an impromptu tea party, at best, but more likely to be asked how important they considered whatever they had put down, before they picked up the phone.
With a cellphone and a telephone, a peasant had to learn to multitask their communication channels. To a person with a routine job, a cellphone, and indeed this balancing act, might well be delightful.
For a person who might well say that the delighful job of a thinker who manages to make time to think is to give us a solution, then: AYT?
A friend and I devised the rbr while we were trying to separate the ownership of a funfair when the only other option was implicit trust upon the owner and neither party was trusting enough to flip a coin as to ownership (but it had in fact previously been established that certain rides belonged to a company of which I was the effectual sole proprietor).